


Run Boy Run

by ab2fsycho (orphan_account)



Series: Get the Chip Off Your Shoulder [4]
Category: Dexter (TV), Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, I'm not just dead sure what I'm doing here, Wendy is Dexter's daughter, a crossover born on tumblr, and Dipper is in danger, forgive me if that happens, i can use all the help i can get, i have a weakness, largely platonic between the two, of course if you let me have my way a certain demon will show up, serial killer au, she inherited the killing gene, she must protect his little ass, so if you have any ideas please drop them off in the comments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Government agents are coming for Dipper Pines, but he has an ally he never anticipated and there's a mystery in Gravity Falls he never expected to become a part of.</p><p>Wendy Corduroy has a secret her family has instilled a fear in her over. Now someone outside of her family is privy to that secret and she's torn between protecting him and making sure he never breathes a word of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Dipper liked playing video games, particularly  _ Bioshock Infinite _ . He remembered the opening vividly, the first words being, “Are you afraid of God?” Well, that line wasn't as memorable as the one following it. The main character's answer was, “No. But I'm afraid of you.”

 

He hadn't realized how heavy those words were in real life. That is, he hadn't realized until he'd seen what Wendy could do.

 

It had started off as a normal day reading outside at the edge of the woods when a man in a suit approached and cast a shadow on what he was reading. Dipper had asked how he could help the stranger, tucking the journal in his vest. The man seemed to look around for a moment, and that had made Dipper's skin crawl. The feeling persisted when it occurred to him that he could be checking for witnesses. Shaking his head, Dipper had tried not to get paranoid about the subject. The feeling grew worse, though, when the man reached into the front of his suit for something. Dipper had started to stand and back away, but the man had been too fast. Soon there was a bag over Dipper's head, cuffs on his wrists, and in seconds he was tossed over the man's shoulder.

 

Dipper struggled, but the man who called himself an agent held his legs fast to keep them from kicking. The agent declared that Dipper knew too much and he was going to have to take him in for questioning. From what Dipper could tell though, they were headed into the woods and not towards the car the agent had pulled up in. In fact, the car was leaving. He heard someone turn on the engine and drive away.

 

Panic overrode every sense he had as he continued to fight, beating his fists against the agent's back and screaming through the sack. He hoped someone heard him. Someone had to. If not, then there was a distinct possibility that he may never come out of the woods again.

 

He didn't know how far into the woods the agent had taken him, but he was still hitting and screaming when the man threw him to the ground hard. Air knocked from his lungs, he sprawled out on the forest floor for only a few moments before rolling over and trying to run despite being blinded. He cried out when a large foot pressed into his upper back, keeping him on the ground and somewhat still. He struggled up until he heard a suspicious click, then he went rigid. Breaths came out in huffs, and he was starting to have trouble breathing. He whimpered as the heel of the shoe dug into his spine and suddenly he was very sure there was no escape for him. Tears welled up in his eyes as the agent declared, “That's better. This will be easier if you keep still.”

 

He couldn't scream. He couldn't even breathe let alone scream. He was going to die. That cold, hard truth hit him hard in the gut and it was the only thing that mattered.

 

Until he heard something striking bone and felt something hot spray over his body.

* * *

 

Wendy didn't respond to the sensations she got often. She'd trained herself not to. But looking up from the sign she was painting for Mr. Pines, she couldn't help but feel something was wrong. Glancing about quickly, she locked eyes with every single member of the Mystery's Shack staff.

 

Except for one.

 

She heard a car pull away and dropped the paintbrush. The car was nondescript, obviously meant to look both casual so it could blend in but bearing the plates of government workers. As it pulled away, she continued looking around for the missing person only to see a shadow disappear into the woods. A shadow carrying a moving form . . . .

 

Her mind went dead and her blood ran cold. Leaving the others without drawing any attention to herself, she pursued the individual. Her father's voice in the back of her mind told her to stop, think, gather information before proceeding. Then it told her to run, save herself, preserve her own life over others. But that was Dipper the man was carrying. There had never been a more accident prone kid alive in Gravity Falls, and she knew in her gut that this could be his downfall.

 

A different voice, one that opposed her father's voice, screamed she couldn't let that happen.

 

She came upon the man quietly. He had stopped just out of earshot of the Mystery Shack and had just thrown Dipper to the ground. Something boiled within her at the sight of the boy helpless, and she couldn't ignore it. She caught a flash of the man's face in time to catch the look in his eyes. She didn't wait long to pull her ax from her belt. She knew even before he pulled out the gun that he needed to be put down.

 

It was just after the man said something to Dipper that Wendy was seeing red. She barely felt her ax connecting with the man's head. When the blood hit her face and torso, the boiling started to deteriorate. She drew back and struck again to further sate the feeling, and didn't stop until she was satisfied.

 

Wendy was stuck glaring down at the body until her vision cleared of the red and she could stop feeling the blood pumping through her veins. The coldness in her brain lifted and she felt . . . good. She felt good for having disposed of someone with malicious intent. She hadn't done it in so long, she'd forgotten what the rush had felt like.

 

It wasn't until she realized Dipper had rolled over and pulled off the bag over his head just how much shit she was now in. She stiffened, eyes locking with the boy as both stared at the blood covering them. His gaze flashed momentarily to the body of the man between them.

 

Dipper looked like he was going to be sick.

* * *

 

“I thought . . . I thought your family were lumberjacks,” Dipper muttered. He didn't know why that was important. He didn't know why that, of all things, came to mind as he stared at Wendy while she holstered her bloodied ax. Blood was spattered against her shirt, her hair, her face. He had honestly only thought that happened in movies and games, but he was wrong. He was so wrong.

 

There was a moment of silence as she knelt down and started fishing through the agent's pockets. Her gaze seemed unsteady, like she wasn't positive how to answer. Then something clicked, and it showed on her face. Pulling the handcuff keys from one of the man's pockets, she stood again. “Oh, we are,” she said, wiping some of the blood from her chin, “but my father used to be the Bay Harbor Butcher.”

 

Dipper blinked several times, unable to move from his position on the forest floor. He tried and failed not to look at the individual she'd just slaughtered. His eyes darted to the gun on the forest floor and the fact that he'd almost died by the agent's hand froze him again. What had the man wanted? The secrets of Gravity Falls? Dipper wanted those too, but if he was going to die because of it he hadn't thought he'd be killed by the government. How was he supposed to react to the fact that the government wanted him dead?

 

How was he supposed to know anything about this?

 

He felt sick as soon as he realized he had a speck of blood on his arm. The speck reminded him of the heat that had spattered onto his back and suddenly he realized what he was covered in. “Oh God,” he said, bile rising in his throat and eyes growing yet wider.

 

He almost screamed when Wendy touched his arm. The look of concern in her eyes felt genuine to him, but he was seriously terrified. “Did he hurt you? Can you get up?” Dipper couldn't answer verbally. All he was capable of doing was shaking his head from side to side like it was stuck on a swivel. “Dude, you need to focus. Okay?” She snapped a couple times in his face, making him jump. “Did. He. Hurt you?”

 

“No,” Dipper gasped out.

 

Wendy looked somewhat relieved. “He was going to,” was all she said before grasping Dipper's arms and pulling him upright. She held him away from her, likely trying to avoid getting anymore blood on him. “He had the look.”

 

“The look?” Dipper asked, staring up at her in fright.

 

“Yeah. We all get a certain look when we've caught our prey.”

 

“We?” Dipper's voice cracked.

 

“Yeah.” She took out a rag and started wiping off what little blood was visible on his front. “My dad and I. My brothers didn't inherit this, and Mom only ever hurt anyone when she felt threatened. So it's just me and him.” She looked at him, her look going from concerned to intense. He flinched under that gaze. “How likely are you to tell anyone about this?” Dipper stiffened. He couldn't. He absolutely couldn't tell anyone about this. Not even Mabel. Mabel would run screaming through town. Shaking his head again, she gave a relieved sigh. “I thought that was the case. Good.”

 

“What . . . what were you gonna do to me? If I said I'd—”

 

“Dipper, you're smart. Figure it out.” He bit his lip, choking on his own vomit again. “I didn't want to. I _don't_ want to.” She looked sad. “Right now, you're the best friend I've got.”

 

“Wendy,” he fumbled, trying to find an appropriate way to address the subject without getting sick, “how long have you . . . how many . . . ?” his lips drew tight and he couldn't continue.

 

“Not many. Dad's rules. We only kill when absolutely necessary.” But judging from the look in her eyes as she said 'kill,' it must feel great every time she got to do it. “This was necessary. I couldn't let that guy take you.” She then said, “Thank you. For offering to keep quiet, and not screaming for that matter.” Oh, but he wanted to. He didn't though. Instead, almost out of reflex, his hand went to his mouth and he mimicked zipping it shut and tossing it away. She smiled at that, the expression looking so strange when dotted with blood. She let him go. “Get back to the shack. We'll talk more about it later.”

 

“Are you gonna tell your dad?” Dipper asked, an even healthier fear of the man blossoming in him. He didn't know who the Bay Harbor Butcher was, but if the name was any indication . . . he had to stop thinking about it. His stomach couldn't take it.

 

She shook her head. “No. Not about you. I just need him to help me hide the body. Now get going and get cleaned up.”

 

Dipper departed after that, contemplating how Wendy had outright killed to protect him. This could potentially be bad. This could be one of the biggest secrets housed in Gravity Falls, and it wasn't even supernatural. He was more at home in the supernatural. This was something far less paranormal and much scarier.

 

But she'd protected him when she could have killed him. She'd claimed him as a friend. She'd saved his life, and he owed her for that. Given the conditions of her secret, he didn't feel so bad knowing and not saying anything though he probably should. Now he just had an underlying fear of what she might do to him. For him. He pushed the thoughts away as he approached the shack.

* * *

 

“How many times do I have to tell you to be careful?”

 

“He was gonna kill a kid, Dad. I didn't just drag him outta the woodpile.”

 

Dan, formerly known as Dexter, sighed as he and his daughter disposed of the agent. After a long pause, Wendy thought she'd averted the speech about 'the code.' She'd followed the code. She didn't need another scolding about it. And she  _ was  _ careful.

 

As careful as she could be with someone now aware of her curse. Gift. Talent. She still hadn't settled on what to call it, nor had she completely calmed down over the fact that someone else was aware of it. Her father called it a curse, but they tended to disagree on many things. One of the reasons he didn't like the idea of sending her off to work with her cousins was because he liked having her in his sights. He threatened her with that often, but she knew that ultimately he didn't want her to take matters into her own hands too often.

 

Today had been an exception. With an aggravated sigh, he asked, “It was that Pines boy, wasn't it?”

 

“Huh?” Wendy felt a hint of panic, but hid it well.

 

“That was the kid he was gonna kill.” Sighing, she looked at her feet. Then she nodded. “You're very fond of him. I can tell.” She nodded again, unable to lie about this. With a heavy sigh, he said, “I've told you the risks. Countless times, I've told you the risks. You can only lead a life so normal.”

 

She knew. The urge still had more control over her than she liked to admit. But she wanted to control it. Desperately she wanted to. If she had tried to control it earlier, though, Dipper might be dead. “I won't become a monster, Dad. I promise.” He said nothing. He was hardened on this subject, and would not sway easily if she chose to argue. The words slipped from her mouth, “I just didn't want to see him hurt.”

 

“That, at least, is one thing you learned well. Protect the innocent.” He started away, only to call back to her, “But only if the innocent means you no harm.”

 

She knew exactly what he meant. With a small smile, she also knew that Dipper was not among the innocents who would purposefully hurt her. On that, she was certain.

 


	2. Chapter 2

One would think it would be difficult falling back into routine after an experience like that. Fortunately (or unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure) he'd seen enough of the paranormal that it wasn't as difficult to wrap his head around Wendy's secret as he'd anticipated. Still, it was very difficult seeing her face and not imagining the blood spattered across her pale skin.

“Does it bother you?” he'd asked once while they were alone on the roof. “When the urges come, I mean?”

Wendy had shrugged. “Mostly no. They're rarely strong enough to act on.”

But the need to protect him had been. He knew he was completely missing the point of right versus wrong, but he felt almost like he had butterflies in his stomach when thinking of how fiercely she would defend him. Yes, he was missing the point entirely. However, his mind tended towards funny things when it came to Gravity Falls. And Wendy. Definitely Wendy.

Things were slipping back to normal after he was done with questions and just resorted to accepting her for what she was. It felt like he'd just put up a strange brick wall between his normal thoughts and the knowledge of what she was capable of. He feared the wall more than her, but he managed to continue on with his daily life.

Until more agents returned for him.

“Dipper, focus!” He couldn't. His eyes were glued to the man he'd shoved off a cliff. He'd gone over a cliff before, but he had survived because of his sister. This man hadn't. His body had crumpled and broken and he'd . . . he'd put it there. “Dipper! Look at me, man!” Wendy snapped in his face, as she often did when trying to get his attention. He couldn't though. He couldn't look at her. He was going to be sick. He could feel it. He started to shake all over, staring down at the agent's shattered body with bile rising in his throat. “Dipper!”

Wendy slapped him across the face, and he was forced to look at her. In that moment, the realization that he'd killed someone set in and the first words out of his mouth were, “I didn't mean to. I swear I didn't—”

“I know you didn't, but you need to calm—”

“They're never gonna stop.” His hands went to his scalp, balling against his hat as he acknowledged the inevitable. “They're not gonna stop coming for me. It doesn't matter if I watch my back, they're not gonna stop—”

“Dipper, calm down!” She grabbed his shoulders as tears started to spill down he cheeks. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think past the visual of the agent's body smashed at the bottom of the cliff. He hadn't meant to push him. He'd just wanted to get away. He just wanted to feel safe again. It didn't help that the one person who could possibly understand what he was going through was also shaking in terror now. “Dipper, listen—”

Something jabbed into his neck, and just as he was about to cry out he lost consciousness.

* * *

 

Dan capped and pocketed the used needle as Dipper collapsed in her arms. Wendy looked up at her father, horrified as he started to reach for the boy. Almost immediately she covered Dipper's body with her own. “Wendy, you know—”

“No. I know what you're thinking, and I'm telling you no!” She was hurt, and a little betrayed that her father had followed her here. Staring at the red mark forming on Dipper's neck, she was less betrayed and more enraged at what he'd done.

Dan reached for the boy again, and instead of remaining still she easily scooped him up in her arms and moved back and away from her father. His brow furrowed, and she could tell he was holding back from shouting. “Did you honestly think I wouldn't figure out that he knew?”

“He wasn't gonna tell anyone. He promised me—”

“You can't afford to go on a promise made by a twelve-year-old.”

She held him tighter, just knowing her father wasn't beyond pulling him from her arms. “He called me asking for help. Don't do this to him.” Dipper had known there was another agent following him. He'd known, and he'd told Wendy ahead of time so she could form a plan rather than springing into action as she'd done last time. Only, Dipper seemed to have taken matters into his own hands by the time she'd gotten to his side. Her lip trembled as she imagined what her father would do to him, now that there was blood on his hands and Dan knew Dipper knew about them. Her chin rested on his forehead as she defended him with a shaky voice, “It was self-defense and you know it. You can't—”

“I have to protect my own first, now hand him over—”

“No!” she cried. There were several things she wanted to say to her father. Dipper was her friend, her truest friend. He hadn't judged her. He'd listened to her and tried to understand what she meant when she said she needed to do what she needed to do. He whispered under his breath that he still loved her (like she couldn't hear him) even though she'd made it clear she couldn't feel that way for him in return. That was her most glaring lie, because on some level what she felt for him was more affectionate than friendship. The protectiveness that came over her when he was hurt or threatened . . . she couldn't explain it away as anything other than a desire to possess him somehow. How, she didn't know. The fact that Dan wanted to take him from her . . . “Dad, what would you do without Mom?”

His eyes narrowed. Wendy knew the answer: he'd go insane. She knew this because he'd told her what it had been like, being alone with the urges after finding someone who'd understood him. Mom had known, after he disappeared long ago, that he was alive somewhere and had sought him out. She'd told Wendy she'd found him hollow and broken. This was a sore subject for her father, but she needed to make the point. She knew she'd struck a nerve when he growled, “Don't compare this to—”

“Why can't I?” she declared, hand absently petting Dipper's hair as she tried to smooth out his many cowlicks. Her heart beat even harder as she realized how desperate she was not to let him go. “I'm more scared of losing him than I am of getting caught.” Dan's mouth shut as his jaw started to set. “Whether you like it or not, he's my own.”

Her father sighed, dropping his hands to his sides as he tried to mellow out his tone and expression. “Wendy, you can't give him anything but grief and destruction.”

“If I don't protect him, he'll wind up dead,” she countered.

Dan gave her a tired sigh, shaking his head. His daughter could be as hardheaded and blind as he could and they both knew that. Still, she knew from the slack of his muscles he wasn't going to be able to take Dipper from her now. He went to reach for her, and when she immediately pulled back he said, “I won't hurt him.”

“Swear on the code.”

He glared at her, and she knew she was asking him to do the equivalent of asking a Bible-thumping Christian to swear to God. Still, he uttered, “I swear on the code.” Only then did she allow him to touch her and lead her away from the scene. “We'll handle the remains later. For now, you need to take him home.”

“Home?”

“Our home.” She stared at him for a moment, confused. “He needs to be protected. We can protect him. We can teach him how to protect himself.”

She was stunned into silence before she stared gratefully at her father. “Thank you,” she half-whispered.

“Just don't tell your mother what's going on yet. Let me handle that.” He stopped, thinking of something briefly before pointing out, “Don't tell his family anything either. As far as they know, the agents have taken him and he's gone missing. We might be able to work better if no one knows just where he is.” She nodded, agreeing with him fully. “Now go home before I change my mind.”

She obeyed, cradling the still unconscious Dipper in her arms. Nuzzling her cheek against her head, she whispered, “I'll protect you,” as if he could hear her. As if she needed to reaffirm with herself that that was what she wanted.

She'd never been a guardian before. Only a predator. Now, she was more of a mix than she had ever been.


End file.
